Variations On A Theme Of Inebriated Hook Ups
by Jade8devlin
Summary: After singing Ben to Blaine, he and Kurt reveal a theory they have about Quinn to Rachel, who adamantly refuses to believe it. Until she gets drunk.


**So I don't really know what this is or why it exists. It's set during and after the events of Michael, and originally I just imagined Rachel giving Quinn a good what-foring in the bathroom and like, ruining her happy Yaleness with omgrachelberrysexness. But then it didn't go that way, and this came out instead. It has smut! And I have only written it once before, so I apologise if it's at all weird, clinical, or whatever else.**

**This was also going to be a one shot, but then I started thinking about something similar happening down the track - during college, for example, and then their mid-twenties, then maybe even beyond that - and somehow decided to write 3-4 parts, beginning with alcohol, and then cycling through some other reality distorters.**

**Basically, it's porn, but there's plot. Ish.**

**Also, this is completely un-beta'd, so any and all mistakes are my fault.**

* * *

><p>Blaine looked like he could cry as they stopped singing to him, and he probably would've if both of his eyes were functioning properly.<p>

"Guys, I don't even know what to say," he started, one hand pressed to his heart.

Kurt smiled at him dreamily, squeezing his hand over his boyfriend's blanket covered thigh. In his periphery, he could see Rachel and Finn leaning into each other with proud little smiles on their faces, and he half expected Mike and Carol Brady to burst through the door and for all of them to break into _It's A Sunshine Day_.

"We just want to make sure you aren't feeling left out, dude," Finn said, one eyebrow rising slightly as he smiled. With his arm squeezed around his hopefully-fiancé, he felt pretty good right at that moment, as if nothing could really hurt any of them as long as they had each other.

"Though I have to say, you really aren't missing all that much," Rachel added, her smile tighter than usual as she forcefully kept her eyes bright. She was happy for Kurt, she truly was. It wasn't jealousy that kept her smile from being completely genuine; it was this creeping sense of hopelessness that had begun to mar her thoughts of the future. She'd always been so sure that once high school was over, her future stardom was all but assured. But now that it was almost here? She wondered how she could've been so confident that everything would work in her favor, because there was just as much chance that it wouldn't. Since falling apart at her locker with Kurt, she couldn't seem to shake the feeling that she had been wrong all these years.

She really didn't know what she was doing anymore.

"Oh my God!" Kurt gasped, jolting forward in his chair and clapping his hands together. "Quinn got into Yale!"

The eyebrow not covered in an eye patch raised, as Blaine gasped "No way!" in return.

Rachel's smile grew impossibly tighter, until it felt more like a grimace. She glanced at Finn, who had a strange almost whimsical look on his face.

Kurt looked giddy, giving Rachel a sideways glance that she didn't see.

"Early admissions. She told the club after singing Never Can Say Goodbye which, I have to say, wasn't half bad. If I hadn't known any better, I'd have sworn she was leaving right then and there!"

Blaine leant forward, seeming to forget that Finn and Rachel were still in the room.

"What's she studying? If you say feminist theory, I think I'll die."

Kurt laughed. "Give her a semester or two. She's studying drama, which isn't surprising considering sophomore year," Kurt nodded at his stepbrother. "No offense."

"None taken," Finn said easily, squeezing Rachel closer to him.

"Drama? Oh my God. Okay, your navy cashmere with white piping, _and _the matching scarf that she's out by the end of her first semester," Blaine raised his eyebrow in challenge to his boyfriend, as Kurt appeared to deliberate.

Rachel had no idea what they were talking about, and judging by the blank expression on Finn's face, he didn't either. Not that it comforted her in the slightest, since Finn rarely followed along with conversations in general. In fact, Rachel prided herself on her analytical skills, and she confided almost everything to Kurt, and thought he had done the same to her. So what was this?

"Deal," Kurt replied after some thought. "Your mustard _and_ red Capri's that she's out by the end of her first week."

Rachel frowned deeply. "Kurt, Blaine, I appreciate that Quinn's interest and acceptance to Yale seems rather sudden and unexpected, but I don't think it's fair to – to what, wager with clothes? – on whether or not she'll drop out. I have complete confidence that – well, while we weren't necessarily close before this year, I still value her friendship and – she'll succeed." She took a breath, adding, "I know she will," softly, but confidently.

She felt Finn nodding beside her, as he supported her argument with, "Yeah, that isn't like you guys."

Kurt held his hand up, slight confusion turning to amusement as Blaine shook his head.

"No, wait, no we aren't betting she'll _drop_ out, we're betting that she'll – uh, well. Kurt?" Blaine turned to his boyfriend, wondering just how much they could divulge about this. It didn't bother him, but he figured that since these were Kurt's friends first, it was up to his discretion.

"We, well, Blaine and I have a theory about our Yale bound club mate and we were – of course I don't think Quinn will drop out! We," he looked at his boyfriend, reaching to grab his hand, as he took a deep breath. "We think she'll _come_ out."

Rachel's frown fell off her face and her jaw dropped open.

Finn frowned even deeper. "Come out of what?"

"But she – " Rachel started, before she was cut off.

"Wait, the closet? You think Quinn's gay?" And then Finn was laughing so hard he had to pull his arm back from Rachel's shoulders in case he knocked her off the chair. "That's – that's too much. Come on!"

The slight chagrin on both Kurt and Blaine's faces cleared, Kurt's eyes narrowing as he folded his legs and gazed at Finn.

"Why is that too much, Finn?" Kurt asked, almost too calmly, and Finn sobered, doing his best to choose his words _very_ carefully.

"Uh, because, she had a baby. With a dude. And dated, uh, lots of dudes. Um. And gay people – I mean, gay chicks don't," he fidgeted in his seat, looking to Rachel for support. "Do that?"

"Actually," Blaine said conversationally, leaning back into his pillows. "Statistically, a lot of teenage pregnancies occur in women who come out later in life."

Kurt just smirked as Finn licked his lips, frowning again.

"If I may," Rachel raised a hand, swallowing past the lump that had developed in the back of her throat for a reason she couldn't identify. "I find that tidbit of information far from enough to even entertain the idea of – "

"Oh, we have far more than that. I mean, celibacy club president and head cheerleader falls pregnant to the bad boy and then _rejects_ him romantically? Look," Kurt shrugged. "I'm not extolling Puck's virtues or anything, but the girl he knocked up is meant to, isn't she? Think about it: Quinn Fabray, head cheerleader and Christian extraordinaire cheats on her boyfriend with the town bad boy, falls pregnant, rejects him, gets kicked out of home and ends up giving her child up for adoption – "

"How does any of that suggest she has romantic inclinations towards the female sex? And bringing up her _painful_ past in defense of a _ludicrous_ –" Rachel felt her cheeks flush hotly, anger and indignation rising up the back of her throat though she had no real idea where it was coming from. Probably her strong stance against injustice, that had to be it.

"Let him finish," Blaine said gently, gesturing for Kurt to continue as Rachel crossed her arms over her chest.

"Thank you, Blaine. Rachel, just hear me out, okay? It's all conjecture, and we're not trying to offend her. It's just, Quinn had everything, and then she lost everything, and for what? What did she get out of any of that? I mean sure, her mom came back and Beth went to Shelby and, despite her turn on the crazy go round this year, everything worked out for her. But back then, Rachel, back then what did she get out of it? She clearly didn't love Puck, or Finn – no offense – so why have sex with someone else, instead of her boyfriend, if she didn't love them?"

"Because she – she was curious about – she felt bad about herself –" but Blaine cut Rachel off.

"I mean sure, she could've just been curious about sex or, as you said, feeling bad. Maybe Finn wasn't available right then, or maybe Puck smooth talked his way in and played with her heart? But what _we_ think is that, celibacy club president and God-fearing Christian as she was, she was trying to prove something to herself, privately, and hoping no one else would find out. I mean Puck's a manwhore, or Kurt's told me he was, so one night with him isn't out of the realm of normalcy or secrecy."

Kurt nodded, eyes gleaming as he took the argument over.

"By itself, sure, not exactly a solid case. But that brings us to her other behavior, specifically in regards to – Oh my God! Blaine! I forgot!"

Rachel leant back heavily in her chair, feeling exceptionally guilty for being so entranced in this – arguably shaky – case for her newfound friend's sexuality being, well, the complete opposite of what she thought it was.

It caused a dropping feeling in her stomach that she couldn't place. Finn squirmed a little in his chair, obviously uncomfortable. She knew he would be giving her that look soon, the one that said _make up an excuse so we can get out of here_.

She sighed.

"What?" Blaine mirrored Kurt's expression as best he could, and Rachel found that somewhat endearing.

"Okay, Quinn has just finished singing, and she – she – no, I have to re-enact it! It can't be told!"

They all watched as Kurt jumped to his feet, moving to stand at the foot of Blaine's bed and taking a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

"What are you –" Finn started to ask, but Kurt held up a hand to silence him.

"Okay, Blaine you're Rachel and I'm Quinn, and I've just stopped singing," he breathed out, opening his eyes and fixing Blaine with a heated look.

Rachel blinked in surprise.

"Whoa," Blaine breathed out.

"Right? And then she says," Kurt closed his eyes for a second again, seemingly becoming his Quinn character before imitating her almost perfectly. "I wanted to thank you guys, because without each and every one of you this would've never happened. You supported me and loved me through all the drama, and that's why I'm standing here. I wasted so much time hating myself for the stupid mistakes that I made, but the truth is, without all of those I never would've dreamed this to be my future."

"That is so lovely," Blaine said, looking to Rachel and Finn with a smile.

Finn looked more confused than ever, and Rachel was gritting her teeth. This whole thing just felt wrong in some way.

"It really was lovely," Kurt agreed, smirking. "And then right at the end – Blaine, you're still Rachel – she says – and I kid you not, she was staring _right at her_ – she says," he cleared his throat, intensifying his gaze. "I was the only one standing in the way of myself. You can't change your past, but you can let go and start your future."

Rachel didn't see Blaine's jaw drop open, though she felt her face flush when he turned to look at her.

Of course Kurt was a NYADA finalist. He'd nailed that performance of Quinn, right down to the delivery of those last few lines that had – well –

Quinn _had _been looking right at her. Quinn had been talking to her and her alone. Seeing it happen, though, instead of being a part of it, made it different somehow. As if it wasn't a slap in the face for what she'd confided in her about Finn's proposal, and almost as if it was a – a declaration of –

"She is so in love with you!" Blaine declared, and Finn brushed his hands over the material of his pants and stood up, looking at Rachel expectantly.

"So, uh, this is getting super weird, and there's a game on tonight that I want to watch with Burt, and we should get going so these guys can, uh, do their guy stuff," he smiled at Rachel, though his eyes were saying _I think these dudes are crazy_.

She smiled back at him, glancing at Blaine's good eye.

"I might stay for a bit? Talk to Kurt about – about NYADA, you know and – and I haven't seen Blaine all week so –" Why was she stammering? It was almost like she was nervous or something.

Finn shrugged, eyeing her as if to make sure she was being earnest and didn't want to leave as much as he did.

He bent over and kissed her softly, and she returned it with a small sigh. God, he loved her.

"Okay, call me when you get home? We can talk and stuff," he said, smiling at her adoringly. She nodded, blushing as he gazed back at her before picking up his jacket and waving to his brother and Blaine. "Er, have fun with your, uh, people who totally aren't gay being gay stuff."

As soon as the door closed behind him – Rachel offering one final wave to his retreating form – she turned back swiftly to face Blaine.

"She's _what?_" Her jaw had gone slack, and her eyes were wide with incredulity.

"Oh come on, don't act so surprised," Kurt huffed, moving back to his chair, and Rachel wondered if the wind had changed because his smirk would just _not leave his face_.

"There is no – I am not acting surprised! I'm simply – I don't – Quinn _Fabray_ is not in love with _me_!"

There was just no way.

Kurt's smirk turned a little pitiful, and he shared a look with Blaine that Rachel couldn't decipher.

Blaine cleared his throat gently, before saying, "Look, Rachel, we're not trying to cause any trouble here. It's just a theory. It's harmless, really. The whole thing only started when we saw her and one of the skanks looking a little, well, _close_ one afternoon and –"

"And I made a joke that the skank kind of looked like you, Rachel, and it snowballed from there. I've seen the pictures she drew of you – don't think I haven't been in the girl's restroom – and after what happened with David? Let me just say that I no longer trust any bully's intentions when they're that targeted. If he was secretly wanting all of this," he gestured to the length of his body, doing his best to remain flippant over an event that still made his heart race just a little. As if reading his mind, Blaine reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "Then it's definitely in the realm of possibility that Quinn has secretly been wanting all of that."

Rachel watched as Kurt gestured to her, looking down at her own body and then blushing fiercely.

This couldn't be happening. Something heavy was settling at the base of her spine, something thick and – and unpleasant.

She had to laugh it off, and did her best to force a chuckle from her throat.

Blaine and Kurt flinched at the sound.

Kurt gazed at her thoughtfully for a few moments, before gasping so dramatically he nearly toppled backwards in his chair.

"Rachel Barbra Berry!" he exclaimed, and she glared at him fiercely, willing him not to even go there.

"No," she said quickly.

"Wait, what's happening?" Blaine asked, glancing between them as Kurt's mouth and eyes got wider and wider, and Rachel's scowl deepened further and further.

"You –"

"No, I –"

"– want –"

"– absolutely –"

"– her to –"

"– have no desire –"

" – love you!" Kurt finished, pointing his finger at Rachel accusingly and positively glowing with delight.

Rachel's mouth opened, and then closed. She blinked rapidly, as Blaine kept looking between them, laughing.

"I love Finn very much!" she declared, failing to see what was so amusing about this situation _thank you very much_. "Furthermore I don't believe that Quinn Fabray has any inclinations towards me and stop laughing at me!"

She stood from her chair, wishing she'd decided to leave with her boyfriend after all.

"Rachel, come on, the more you react to this the more it seems that you might –" Blaine stopped speaking at the glare she directed at him, however. She adored the boy, she really did, but one more word out of his mouth and he'd be blind in both eyes.

So help her.

"Oh, calm down. Honestly. You're making this far too easy," Kurt scoffed, his eyes betraying how amused he was. He was already planning a new bet to make with his boyfriend as soon as Rachel left.

"Whatever Quinn's sexuality may be, it is her business, and I'd thank you to leave me out of your frivolous gossip. Kurt, I will see you in school tomorrow, and Blaine, I hope for your speedy recovery. Goodnight!" And with that, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, thinking of people's rights to privacy, and how nasty gossip could actually be, and that if Quinn Fabray was gay then, well, good for her! And good for all the women in her future, should she choose to love them.

And there was absolutely zero possibility that Rachel could ever count herself among them, no matter what her best friends thought.

"Wow," Blaine said, eye bright with humor and surprise. "Did that just happen?"

Kurt shrugged, amusement fading as he gave it serious thought. "She's always had a bullheaded desire to befriend Quinn, despite the torment. Maybe there is something there?"

Blaine hummed, curling over onto his side and reaching for Kurt, pulling him weakly toward the bed.

"Cuddle me, my eye hurts," he murmured, sighing contentedly when Kurt pushed himself onto the bed and pulled Blaine to his shoulder.

"They've always been a little weird, if I'm honest." Kurt mumbled, stroking Blaine's back with one hand. "But Rachel wouldn't – she's wanted Finn for so long, I never thought anyone else really existed for her. Even Jesse was just a – like her twin, really, which is gross now that I think about it."

"I don't know who that is," Blaine replied sleepily.

"Hey, how about your black, navy, and argyle socks that Rachel acts awkwardly around Quinn for the rest of the year?"

"Please, I'm not falling for that. Besides, you always win my socks, and I hate the way my shoes feel without them."

Kurt smiled, leaning his head down and feeling a little sleepy himself. "Fine," he sighed as dramatically as he could.

"Besides," Blaine added. "Like that's a fair bet. Rachel acts awkwardly around everyone."

Kurt hummed his agreement, thinking that it was especially true for Quinn. Perhaps in some far off future Rachel and Quinn would find each other, once high school and college was over, and first loves had moved on to other things.

Well, except for him and Blaine, of course.

It wasn't like Finn and Rachel were married, anyway. There was plenty of time.

(oYo) (oYo)

Rachel was drunk.

She tipped her head back, erupting with laughter, glad she was sitting on Finn's lap because his arms stopped her from falling backwards completely.

"Girl, you should've seen his face!" Mercedes was saying, laughing so much she was crying. Tina let out a high-pitched whine, falling forward onto the floor.

Finn smiled pleasantly, looking longingly at where Puck and Sam were playing beer pong with Mike and Rory. Not that he didn't like sitting with Rachel, Mercedes and Tina or anything, but he didn't really know what was so funny and he hadn't hung out with his bros in a long time.

"What did he say?" Rachel gasped out, nodding as Finn kissed her cheek and moved out from underneath her. She slid onto the armchair like a ragdoll, waiting for Mercedes to catch her breath enough to speak.

Rachel loved so many things right now. Her fiancé, and her friends, and NYADA, and most especially the party Blaine had thrown in his ridiculously large house. The whole Glee club was there, and some of the guys from Dalton, though Sebastian was thankfully absent. It was a nice mixer, and a breather from all the competitive whateverness that Regionals was stirring within the opposing show choirs.

A warm fuzzy feeling slipped over her brain as she downed another drink, her eyes straying to where Finn was laughing with Puck and Sam, and then over to another corner of the room where Santana and Brittany sat with Quinn, the three of them laughing over their own conversation.

As always, despite the company she kept, she felt a desperate yearning to be part of their little group. She wanted to be laughing along with them, at whatever they were talking about, and have Quinn's attention on her like a real friend. Well, they were real friends now weren't they? They confided in each other, and gave each other advice, didn't they?

Whether it was the alcohol, or the happy music, or just the atmosphere in general, she felt emboldened enough to decide that if she wanted to sit with the girls she'd once feared, then she would! They were her friends! Well, for the most part. Santana still called her names, though if Sam was any example, she was starting to think that it was how she showed affection. Maybe. And Brittany was a friend too, wasn't she?

Yes, Rachel nodded to herself, ignoring Mercedes and Tina, who were clutching each other and communicating in squeals and wheezes. She was going to hang out with Quinn! Right now!

"Whoa there, sunshine, might be time to ease up a little," a warbler boy she didn't really know said to her as she swayed in place after standing up a little too quickly. He didn't say it unkindly, just gave her a smile and headed over to –

To where she was trying to go. Huh.

By the time she made it, weaving around the small groups of drunken teenagers – and stopping off to make Finn kiss her cheek – the warbler boy was talking animatedly with Quinn and Rachel, suddenly feeling like she was interrupting them, sat down next to Brittany instead.

It was so strange, this desperation to look over at Quinn, with an equal desire not to. It made her eyes feel funny, as if they'd gone hard or something.

"Hi!" Brittany said, finishing off a drink that was bright green and reaching for another. "Want one?"

Rachel shrugged, accepting it and tipping it back.

"That's delicious!" she exclaimed, wiping her lips sloppily and catching Quinn's eye. Not that she meant to. It just happened.

Quinn smiled at her, completely amused, or so it looked. That was a thing about Quinn, she noticed, that was entirely Quinn-going-to-Yale and not Quinn-stuck-in-Lima. Ever since her acceptance letter, her smile had become so open and warm. So – she searched for a word – genuine. Yeah, and free.

Rachel blinked. That's what it was! Quinn looked free, and it changed her demeanor entirely.

"It's Midori, and add some pineapple juice to that shit? It's like drinking an orgasm!" Santana slurred happily.

"You are so right!" Brittany gasped, knocking her drink back. "It's like drinking," she paused, licking her lips. "A unicorn's orgasm."

Rachel laughed, doing her best not to visualize the disturbing imagery, and keeping her eyes on Quinn. Her smile had changed, she'd noticed, from the freedom one she'd given Rachel, to a much less genuine version that she was now giving this warbler person. Who even was this boy? His hair was whiter than Sam's had been last year.

Liquid courage was fairly apt, she reasoned, standing up and situating herself on the other side of the warbler with the stupid hair, forcing him to lean back from Quinn and look between them.

"Who even are you?" Rachel asked, not waiting for him to reply before leaning across his lap to grab Quinn's hand. Because friends could do that. "Oh my God Quinn we haven't talked all night! I have the best thing to tell you!"

She was lying. Alcohol was turning her into a liar! But she was being a good friend, because clearly the change in Quinn's smile meant that this warbler guy was bothering Quinn, and if her friend was in trouble, then Rachel Berry would save her.

"You do?" Quinn's eyebrow rose, though her eyes were warm. It made Rachel almost want to cry, since they were absolute enemies once, and now this girl was like her bestest friend in the whole world.

"I do!" she exclaimed. "Excuse me," she said pointedly to the warbler guy, half climbing over him to push herself between them until she was sitting next to Quinn.

"Bye," Quinn called to the white haired boy, who was shaking his head slightly as he stood up to walk away. "Hey, drunky." Quinn murmured to Rachel, her eyebrow still raised as she accepted a drink from Santana, who was holding it out to Quinn despite being lip-locked with Brittany.

"That's the best drink I've ever had," Rachel nodded towards the cup, watching closely as Quinn brought it to her mouth and tipped it back in one fluid motion. She licked her lips afterwards, and Rachel found it all too mesmerizing.

"Tasty," Quinn acknowledged, before fixing Rachel with a pointed look. "So this amazing thing to tell me, let me guess, you're the future Mrs. Hudson?"

Rachel blinked, because she'd made that up to get rid of the warbler guy that was clearly harassing her best friend.

But also, what Quinn had said was true.

"How did you know?"

Quinn shrugged, glancing behind her at the boys still playing beer bong and whooping every so often.

"Finn's easier to read than a billboard," she answered, running her tongue over her teeth. "I've got to say, I'm surprised. A little disappointed, too."

Rachel's heart rate picked up exponentially as she remembered something Kurt and Blaine had said a few weeks ago. Quinn was in love with her!

"Yeah?" she whispered, gazing at Quinn's lips for a minute, her imagination running off with the alcohol in her system. God, Finn was right when he told her she was a needy drunk. Or did he say clingy? She sure wanted to cling to the blonde right at this second.

How did that happen?

"My advice was good, and you ignored it," Quinn answered, a scrutinizing expression on her face. "How drunk are you right now, exactly?"

Rachel scoffed, tearing her eyes away from the lips she was so about to kiss. What was wrong with her? She needed to find Finn, and kiss him. He was whom she was meant to kiss.

The only person she would kiss for the rest of her life.

"Uhm," she started, not feeling so well all of a sudden. "If you'll excuse me, I need to –"

She didn't complete the sentence, just stood up doing her best not to wobble too much, and headed for the door that lead to the backyard.

Finn didn't even notice her pass him, and in all honesty, she didn't want him following her outside right now. She needed some air, and some water, and to not be so drunk all of a sudden.

She slid the door shut behind her, not caring that it didn't close completely, shutting her eyes and taking deep breaths in the cool night air. This was nice. This was good.

There were too many thoughts going around her head. It was Kurt's fault. All his fault. If he hadn't said that – that –

That what, though? That Quinn Fabray might be in love with her? So what if she was? It didn't change anything. It didn't mean anything. She loved Finn, and Finn was – Finn was –

She felt like crying, all of a sudden. Finn was the only person in Lima who was meant to be in love with her. He was the only one who was meant to find worth in her. Jesses had left, and Puck never had any real feelings towards her, not like that. Finn was the _one_. The only one, in the whole city, who really loved her. The only one, in maybe the whole world, who would want to marry her.

No one else could love her, they just couldn't, especially not Quinn. Santana was the lesbian, if anyone should be in love with her that wasn't her boyfriend, it would be the actual homosexual girl, wouldn't it? Even she found Rachel repulsive, so what –

"You okay?"

A glass of water was being held out to her when she opened her eyes dazedly, and Quinn was standing there with that freedom smile on her face again, and suddenly she was just angry.

Quinn was going to New York! The state, sure, but it was still New York, and Rachel was marrying Finn, and somewhere this whole thing between the three of them had gone backwards. She remembered a conversation at a piano last year, where Quinn had resigned herself to – to exactly what Rachel had just chosen for herself, and now the girl who had tormented her and pretty much screwed her whole life up was getting the dream that Rachel should be getting.

It didn't make sense.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she said, wishing she wasn't so drunk so she could at least sound angry instead of just, well, pathetic.

"I know," Quinn answered, reaching out to take Rachel's hand, and then lifting it to the glass.

"You know? What? That everything is wrong?" Rachel choked out, huffing when Quinn guided the glass in Rachel's hands to her lips, and forced her to drink. "I don't need a nurse!" Rachel sputtered once the cup was empty.

"I'm not being a nurse," Quinn replied, taking the empty cup and moving back towards the house.

Rachel watched the girl open the door, and reach through it to set it on a table inside, before picking up another and closing the door again softly. She walked steadily back to where Rachel stood on the grass, only the slightest bit wobbly from the alcohol she'd consumed.

"I don't want any more water," Rachel said petulantly, crossing her arms and then promptly dropping into a seated position on the ground.

Quinn joined her, drinking from the glass she'd retrieved, and shrugging. "I didn't get you any more water." Rachel huffed, her breath catching as Quinn added, "You don't seem sad now, anyway."

"I – what did you say?" Rachel turned her body, half facing Quinn as the other girl drank again.

"You know, water makes a sad Rachel Berry feel less so. It's weird."

Their faces were only half lit by the lights from inside, and there was no way she could read Quinn's expression.

"But how did you know about that?" Rachel whispered, the anger disappearing. She thought she saw Quinn shrug, but she couldn't be sure.

"Everybody knows that. So anyway, what was the best thing ever you were going to tell me, because if it actually was your future as housewife Hudson, I'm going to hit you again."

Quinn's tone was teasing, and it was still so hard to get used to being her friend. To have warmth and affection directed towards her, instead of derision and annoyance.

"I was just saying that because," Rachel confessed, her words slurring just a little. "Well, that guy looked annoying and I was best friend rescuing you."

"Is that what we are?" Quinn asked after a beat, her tone light and something like laughter in her voice.

What was going on?

"Kurt thinks you're in love with me, but I don't think so," Rachel said, feeling a heart attack or a stroke coming on as soon as she blurted the words out. She was never drinking again. "Oh my God, oh my God!" she uttered, her face growing ridiculously hot.

"Kurt's funny," Quinn replied easily, her tone still light but her voice dropped at the end, like she didn't think it was funny at all.

"I didn't mean – I mean I'm – God, I'm drunk. I'm sorry. He probably just thinks everyone's gay. I'm sure he – not that he was calling you – Oh my God!"

"Relax," Quinn shrugged. "My best friend is a lesbian, involved with my other best friend – also a girl – add in Kurt and Blaine, and that makes, what? A good third of Glee club being gay? I'm not offended. It'd be pretty rude of me if I were. They're my friends."

"Oh," Rachel offered meekly.

"I'm getting another drink, want one?" Quinn stood up smoothly, her face still hidden in shadow.

"No," Rachel responded softly, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed. "Thanks, though."

When Quinn hadn't returned, after what felt like at least ten minutes, Rachel felt her anger coming back. How dare Quinn play with her like this! First she stole her future – her destiny! This was like that Freaky Friday movie – but then she had the audacity to shrug off an accusation of homosexuality like it was nothing? Rachel had defended her honor when Kurt and Blaine had brought it up. She'd been offended on her behalf, and now? Now she was insinuating that that was rude which – Rachel gasped. Quinn had inadvertently and unknowingly called Rachel rude! How dare she!

Well, she wasn't waiting around for her so called best friend – who just called two other people her best friends _to her face_ – if that's how she was going to be. Quinn had been the celibacy club president! Sure, she'd had a teenage pregnancy and re-evaluated her belief systems in the face of the hardships she'd endured as a consequence, but how could former HBIC and tormenter of Rachel Berry – who called her RuPaul and Treasure Trail and drew pornography of her in bathrooms! – how could she then just shrug off homosexuality so easily when she, Rachel, had reacted so strongly?

This was uncalled for, she decided. She was going to march in there and confront Quinn Fabray once and for all!

She was pleased to find that she wasn't wobbling on her feet as much now, though locating Quinn through the small crowd in Blaine's living room proved difficult. Finn was cheering as Puck downed what looked like a bucket filled with beer, as Mike and Sam grabbed at each other laughing and Rory applauded. Tina and Mercedes were now rolling on the floor clutching each other in laughter, and Santana and Brittany were huddled together in a dark corner. Rachel was disgusted to notice some of the warbler guys watching them with interest, though managed to keep her focus on finding Quinn instead of ranting at them and making a spectacle of herself. Kurt and Blaine were slow dancing, though seemed more intent on holding each other up than keeping any rhythm. She couldn't see Artie and Sugar anywhere, nor could she see Quinn.

She stalked past the warblers, glaring at them pointedly and using two fingers to point at her eyes, and then them, just to let them know she could see their revolting behavior.

"You've ruined my life!" she hissed at Kurt as she passed the dancing couple, heading toward the kitchen to start the search for her now ex-best friend and future stealer.

Sugar squeaked as Rachel strode into the den, finding the kitchen empty and moving her search onward. Artie was blushing in his chair, tightening his hold on the strange girl in his lap as he averted his eyes from Rachel.

"Carry on!" Rachel informed them, eyes sweeping the room and coming up empty handed.

Downstairs proved unsuccessful, so she headed to the second floor. She'd been to the house enough to feel comfortable going where she pleased. Blaine's room was empty, as was the master suite and guest bedroom. The bathroom had nothing but a sweet smelling automatic air freshener going off every so often – which Rachel had been sure was someone sniffling – and she sighed as she realized Quinn must've gone home.

She deflated, almost completely, until she heard movement from the guest bedroom. She'd sworn that was clear.

But she'd forgotten the en suite!

She re-inflated with purpose, though her words died in her mouth as she flung the door open and found Quinn sitting on the floor near the toilet, a half empty bottle of vodka in one hand, and her eyes red.

"Found me," she muttered, swigging from the bottle again.

It was all there on the tip of Rachel's tongue, all the words about stolen destiny and being rude and homosexual hypocrisy, but somehow they felt stupid as she looked at the blonde on the floor. The happy freedom smile was gone from her lips, and she resembled the head cheerleader sophomore year more than any other version of Quinn she'd encountered.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, heart thundering in her chest though she couldn't figure out why.

"What am I doing? What are _you_ doing? God, I can't believe –" Quinn shook her head, looking helpless for just a second, before slamming the vodka bottle on the ground and then standing quickly and pointing a finger at Rachel. "Why are you doing this? You!"

"Me?" Rachel responded, feeling herself growing meeker by the second.

"You can't marry him! You can't do that to yourself! Of all people, Rachel, you're the one meant to be getting out of here and now you're just –" Quinn squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, before the words exploded from her lips. "A fucking coward!"

Rachel leant heavily against the door, as if physically pushed back by Quinn's words.

"I'm not –" she started to say, but her voice was trembling. "How dare you," she half whispered, because really. How dare Quinn call her that?

How dare anyone.

"Well you are, and I'm so disappointed I could strangle you right now!"

Strangely, the death threat forced away any meekness and Rachel narrowed her eyes.

"Well I've wanted to strangle you for years, Quinn Fabray! You made my life hell! You were a total and absolute bitch and I did _nothing_ to you to get treated like that, nothing! And so what if someone loves me and wants to marry me, just because you're in love with me doesn't mean you have a right to be disappointed in me!"

Well, she wasn't meant to say that. But actually, maybe Kurt and Blaine had a point. Because suddenly, every single moment between them in the past three years was flashing behind her eyelids; every glance, and faraway look; every smile and laugh that shouldn't have been directed at her and yet was. And those pictures on the bathroom wall! She was pretty sure it wasn't normal for someone to be that biologically accurate with depictions of the genitals of people they hated.

Quinn didn't move an inch. She was staring straight into Rachel's eyes. Her chest was heaving with the breaths she was taking, and Rachel wondered for a minute if she really was about to be strangled.

Which would be a tragic way to die; murdered by a jilted lesbian in love with her, in the bathroom of her best gay friend's boyfriend's house, while her fiancé drank buckets of beer downstairs.

Was this her life?

"I don't have to be in love with you to be disappointed in you, Rachel, not when you make it so easy," Quinn said coldly, squaring her shoulders and shaking her head as she tried to get past Rachel and open the door.

But why, Rachel thought, why wouldn't Quinn just say she wasn't in love with her?

"You have no right to be," she said, flattening her back against the door and not letting Quinn get past.

Quinn sighed, seeming to tremble just slightly, as she put her hand on the door handle and avoided looking at Rachel's face.

"I have _every_ right," Quinn replied in a low voice. "Let me open the door."

Rachel's heart was beating wildly, so much that if she'd been sober she would've booked an appointment with a cardiologist to make sure nothing was wrong with her. There was a clenching feeling in her stomach, like she'd eaten something she shouldn't have. Her hands were trembling, though it was likely just the alcohol.

And God, what could she smell right now? Was there an air freshener in here too? It was filling her senses, and she inhaled deeply through her nostrils just to get more of it.

She tried desperately to avoid realizing it was Quinn's perfume, the girl's shoulder resting against her own as she half heartedly jiggled the door handle, but Rachel pressed her back to it as hard as she could.

"No," Rachel whispered, wondering when her voice had started feeling so thick.

Quinn's head fell forward against the door as she took a deep breath.

"Stop it," she whispered back, sounding desperate.

"So I'm the coward, huh?" Rachel couldn't stop the words, more than she could find out where they were coming from. Her chest was heaving, God, maybe she _should_ open the door in case they were suffocating in the small bathroom from a lack of oxygen?

Quinn shook her head, leaning back and looking at the ceiling for a second, before taking her hand off the door handle and slapping it against the door, right next to Rachel's head.

"You are infuriating," Quinn breathed, eyes wavering between Rachel's eyes and mouth, as Rachel tilted her head up and quirked her eyebrows.

"You love it," she managed to get out, before Quinn pushed forward and kissed her.

And just like that, all the symptoms in her body were alleviated, and intensified at the same time. This wasn't like kissing Finn. This wasn't like anything she'd felt before.

Quinn pressed against her, tilting her head slightly and opening her mouth just the tiniest bit. Rachel lifted her head, her mouth softening against Quinn's even more. There was no other movement, as ever so slowly, Quinn's chest was pushed against Rachel's, and Rachel hands clutched Quinn's hips so hard she was sure it hurt.

Quinn moved the hand against the door to the back of Rachel's head, her other bunching in the material of Rachel's shirt and pulling her forcefully, and impossibly, closer.

Rachel was dizzy. She'd never been so close to someone. She could barely think, let alone breathe. She inhaled through her nose, that Quinn smell now absolutely everywhere.

It was like time had frozen around them. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, though Rachel was sure it was minutes. Possibly hours, before there was the faintest sound at the back of her throat, and then Quinn's mouth started moving against her own, kissing her deeply, barely pulling away before moving in again, like they were drowning.

Rachel couldn't stop herself whimpering, and hated herself for it. What had happened to her anger? What had happened to – Oh God, she thought, opening her mouth and letting Quinn's tongue meet her own. Oh God.

Quinn's chest was still heaving against her, and she opened her legs a little as Quinn pressed her hips forward.

She'd never had her mouth so connected to someone else's before. She'd french kissed, of course, but the kisses she'd shared with all her ex boyfriends had always been passionate, but relatively shallow.

Not like this; as if she couldn't get enough of Quinn's mouth in her own.

Quinn's fingertips were pressing into her skull and pushing her forward, Rachel's hands slipping up Quinn's back and digging her fingernails in as she dragged them back down.

She'd never done that before, or even had the urge. It was like something else had taken over her body, and whatever it was purred when Quinn whimpered at the sensation. Whatever it was pushed away from the door, and maneuvered them around until it was Quinn held in place against it.

Rachel pulled back, their mouths disconnecting wetly, before she sucked Quinn's bottom lip into her mouth and then bit it, gently, just enough to make the blonde's breathing that little bit harsher.

Rachel wanted to say so many things, but she couldn't find any words. At all. Words of triumph, or mockery, or demand. It was all lost in how the green in Quinn's eyes was darker than she'd ever seen it, and yet the challenge was still in them, somehow, even with their positions reversed.

And all Rachel could think was that Quinn had called her a coward. Her!

She dove in towards Quinn's neck, pleased when the blonde arched to give her better access. She licked a trail from her collarbone to the underside of her ear, before sinking her teeth in just over her jugular. She unbuttoned Quinn's shirt as she did so, moving her hands inside it and laying them flat against her sides, before slowly dragging her fingernails up towards the blonde's breasts.

It was easy, this. Sex with a girl, anyway. All she really had to do was everything she'd had to talk Finn through, as patiently as she could. Quinn's breathy moans were egging her on, and every time she looked like she was going to say something, Rachel leant in and kissed her, all but ripping the top buttons of the shirt open and moving her hands swiftly over the soft material of Quinn's bra.

She rubbed her thumbs over the girl's nipples, smirking at the shuddery intake of air at each swipe.

It was like Rachel was in a haze. As if her fiancé wasn't downstairs – just feet away, really – and as if she wasn't not in love with the blonde, who had started lifting Rachel's shirt above her head and was placing her own hands over Rachel's breasts.

It was dizzying, the feeling of Quinn squeezing and kneading her, and she lost focus for a moment letting her head drop onto the blonde's shoulder. She felt warm kisses against her collarbone, and then her bra being unclasped.

As soon as it was off, she grabbed Quinn's hands and slammed them against the door, taking the girl's mouth again and plunging her tongue inside without warning. Quinn gasped as Rachel pushed her bare chest against Quinn's ribs, letting her hands go and reaching behind Quinn to get rid of her bra too.

It was like nothing Rachel had ever experienced as her skin made contact with Quinn's, and their arms wrapped around each other tightly.

Rachel's centre was throbbing uncomfortably, and she wondered absently if alcohol was meant to increase sensitivity. She was wetter than she'd ever been, even that night with Finn and he'd even – he'd –

She broke the embrace with Quinn, reaching down to unfasten the girl's belt and pants as quickly as she could. She needed to do something, and she needed to do it now.

Quinn mirrored her action almost immediately, her fingertips bunching the material of Rachel's skirt and pulling it down.

Rachel made sure to take Quinn's underwear with her, and with her mouth still firmly attached to Quinn's, lifted one of the blonde's legs until it was hooked around her waist. Her hand slid back over it, down over the blonde's stomach, and as if she was a gold medalist in the lesbian sex Olympics, slid two fingers over Quinn's clit on her way to sliding into the girl with ease, all in one fluid motion.

Quinn was panting against her mouth, eyes squeezed shut, and muscles clenching around Rachel's fingers as she pulled them out of the blonde until just her fingertips remained inside, using her hips to push against her hand, driving her fingers back inside Quinn.

"Oh, Jesus," Quinn whimpered so softly Rachel barely heard her.

That's right, she thought smugly, she, Rachel Berry, had just made the ex-president of the celibacy club invoke the Lord's name with sheer simple sexual pleasure.

God, and Quinn was just so wet. Feeling the smooth glide of her fingers sliding in and out of the blonde was possibly the best experience she'd ever had, and that was saying something. The angle being a little awkward, she nevertheless marveled at the blonde's reaction when her fingers reflexively curled inside her, and Quinn's hips bucked. The blonde whimpered steadily, as Rachel continued to thrust her hips against the back of her own hand.

Somehow, Quinn was getting tighter around her fingers. She pulled her head back slightly, watching as Quinn's eyes closed and her mouth dropped open, just a little, her breath panting out and her forehead creased.

"Say it," Rachel whispered, suddenly desperate to hear it. "Say it," she said again, punctuating her words by thrusting her fingers in deeper, and harder, her thumb swiping across Quinn's clit as the blonde took the Lord's name again.

"Oh God, Rachel," Quinn licked her lips, opening her eyes with difficulty and meeting Rachel's intense gaze.

"Say it, please," Rachel whispered, dragging her free hand across Quinn's behind, digging her nails in lightly and pulling the girl tighter against her.

Quinn closed her eyes for a second, her muscles clenching tighter around Rachel's fingers.

Then she opened them, stared straight at the brunette, and said, "No."

Rachel stopped her movements for a minute in shock, and Quinn took the opportunity to bring her leg down and pull Rachel's wrist away from between her legs. She leaned forward and kissed her quickly, using her momentum to swing the girl around and push her against the door again.

Without waiting for a reaction, Quinn dropped down slightly and took one of Rachel's nipples into her mouth, sucking on it gently, and then rolling it between her teeth.

Rachel very nearly passed out, her hands flying into Quinn's hair and holding her in place.

She hadn't been this turned on in her whole life. Never. Ever. She was so wet she could barely even feel her underwear anymore, which didn't matter so much since Quinn was tugging it down her legs and taking them off.

She looked down as Quinn knelt before her, gazing up at her as she slowly dragged a hand from Rachel's calf to her thigh, and then lifted Rachel's leg gently and placed it over one of Quinn's shoulders.

Rachel's breath caught, because she knew what was coming.

And God, when Quinn's tongue swiped the length of her, she realized that, actually, she hadn't known what was coming, after all.

"Oh God," she moaned deeply, unable to keep it in as Quinn's tongue began to gently lap at her clit, and she thought she would die from the gentle sensation. Her hips rolled of their own accord, and her hands grasped at Quinn's hair, pulling her closer. In return, Quinn flattened her tongue against the skin underneath her clit, licking upwards until just the tip of her tongue circled Rachel's clit, repeating the motion as Rachel moaned unintelligible words and rocked her hips in time with Quinn's mouth.

The ceiling spun above them, and for all they knew, the en suite was the entire world and they were the only people alive.

Rachel felt herself tightening, her voice getting higher, and then Quinn pulled away from her and she frowned at the loss of contact. She opened her eyes in confusion, and just as she did, her head hit the bathroom door with a thud as Quinn pushed two fingers inside of her at the exact same moment she began circling Rachel's clit with her tongue again.

"Fuck," Rachel chanted, "Oh fuck," It wasn't like her to swear, but there was nothing else coherent in her mind as Quinn's fingers curled and tugged at a spot inside her she didn't even know she had.

She was so close. So close it almost frightened her how intensely her stomach was coiling.

And then Quinn's mouth left her, and the blonde stood quickly, moving her mouth over Rachel's and kissing her deeply, Quinn's fingers still pushing inside of her. Quinn reached her free hand up to the hands in her hair, and brought one of Rachel's down her body insistently. Rachel didn't miss a beat, sliding back inside Quinn so surely that Quinn gasped against her mouth at the contact.

Rachel curled her own fingers purposefully – having now experienced what that felt like – moving her mouth from Quinn's as the blonde's head dropped forward, her eyes squeezed shut, and her free hand pushed against the door for support.

Rachel pressed wet, open mouthed kisses to Quinn's shoulder, the feelings in her body reaching an impossibly higher level as the back of her hand bumped Quinn's, and she realized she could feel it moving against her own.

"Please say it," Rachel whimpered, before following it quickly with, "I'm coming, oh God, I'm coming, I'm coming," desperately, as her entire body began to shudder.

"Fuck me Rachel," Quinn moaned breathily, biting Rachel's shoulder as her body stiffened. "Just – oh God – just fuck me."

Rachel almost screamed as she came, both from Quinn's curling fingers and from how hard Quinn bit into her shoulder as the blonde's body rocked uncontrollably against hers.

It felt like hours, maybe, though it had to have been only a few minutes. A few minutes to come crashing down, and realize what they'd just done.

Quinn sighed heavily, and Rachel thought she felt a shaky kiss placed on her shoulder – she didn't even know how they were still upright – before Quinn drew back, reluctantly removing her fingers and Rachel winced at the loss of contact. She pulled back as well, looking away from how Quinn's eyes fluttered in response.

They stared at each other, breath coming in short bursts and pants, a light sheen of sweat covering their bodies, and hair matted to their foreheads.

Quinn turned away first, stepping delicately to the sink and beginning to wash her hands.

Rachel went to do the same, before she registered music coming from somewhere, and remembered the party going on downstairs.

"Oh God," she whispered in horror, as the reality of what had just happened hit her in full force. She was _naked_, with _Quinn_, and they'd just – they'd just –

Quinn refused to look at her, kneeling down to gather her clothes and slowly starting to put them back on, sans her underwear, which she threw in the trashcan under the sink.

Rachel's hands shook as she dressed herself, discarding her underwear in the same way and trying not to cry.

Finn was downstairs. He was _right there_ downstairs. What had she done?

Slowly, Quinn patted her hair down in the mirror, and gave her face an appraising look, turning the tap on in the sink and splashing the water up and onto her cheeks.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked, voice wavering, as she watched the blonde completely compose herself in the mirror.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow at Rachel's reflection. "Rachel?"

"I – we – what do we do now?" she whispered, feeling her insides clench at the memory of Quinn there.

God, she hoped against hope that feeling wouldn't haunt her forever.

"Well," Quinn replied, running a fingertip around the sides of her mouth. She pouted at her own reflection, and then smiled at Rachel fully. Her freedom smile. "I go to Yale, and explore all that's on offer to me there. Who knows, it could be pretty boys, or short brunettes that I just can't seem to escape from," she looked down at the sink for a moment, before looking at Rachel again. "And you marry Finn, if that's what you choose, and spend the rest of your life regretting the options you didn't take."

"And if," Rachel cleared her throat. "If I'm not just a finalist, and I get into NYADA, without Finn, for example, what would that do for us?"

Quinn gazed at her long and hard, before sighing. "I guess, if that's what you want to find out, you take a chance and see."

This time, when Quinn made to move past her, Rachel let her.

"Goodnight Quinn," Rachel said softly, staring at her hands and trying not to cry.

Quinn paused, stepping back into the bathroom and reaching out a hand to tilt Rachel's chin up. She kissed her firmly, once, and then again, and then tilted her head to the side and kissed her a final time, deeply.

"Sweet dreams, Rachel," Quinn murmured, before walking away.

Kurt found her sometime later, sitting on the guest bed and crying into her hands.

"Oh sweetie!" Kurt exclaimed, giving her a tight hug that nearly tipped them over. "Finn's passed out, don't worry. Wait, did he make you cry?"

Rachel shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she said finally, and he nodded at her sympathetically.

"You'll figure it out, Rachel. You always do. You are the most determined person I've ever met in my life, and there's nothing you can't do," he kissed her forehead, eyes closing in drunken bliss as she tightened her hold. "You just don't let anyone choose your future but you, okay?"

"But what if –" she started, looking surprised when he shushed her and held her tighter.

"No buts! And you don't hear a gay man say that often," he giggled, pleased when she returned it. "You can do anything, Rachel Barbra Minelli Garland Berry! Absolutely anything. Oh, hey were you talking to Quinn up here before?"

She frowned, heart rate picking up as she remembered the talking they_ hadn't_ done up here before.

"No?" Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she cleared her throat. "Why?"

"She looked weird when she left. I mean, she's been weirdly happy since the whole Yale thing, but she was – I don't know. She just had this look on her face like the cat that ate the canary," Kurt mumbled, and Rachel blushed deeply.

"Oh?" she returned, wondering what Kurt's reaction would be if she told him that, actually, she _was_ the canary.

"Lucky her, going off to Yale, probably thinking of all the ladies she's going to get her gay on with," he giggled. "Sorry, I've been talking to Santana for two hours. I think she's managed to infiltrate my vocab – voca – words."

"Yeah," Rachel said after a moment, doing her best to smile. "I think she will, actually."

If Kurt heard her agreement, he didn't let on. He stood up abruptly instead, mumbling something about finding his boyfriend and getting his snuggle on.

Rachel let herself fall back against the comfortable guest bed, her mind automatically comparing it to the hard surface of the en suite door. It made her grimace, and ache, all at once.

Quinn Fabray was clearly not in love with her, and it hurt so much she realized Kurt had been right; she _wanted_ Quinn to love her.

Because maybe it was the alcohol still in her bloodstream, or the ridiculous orgasm she'd had. Maybe it was the challenge in the blonde's eyes, or how she'd gasped the Lord's name as Rachel fucked her – which, for the record, she still couldn't _believe_ had even happened.

Maybe it even went back further than that, though she could barely grasp her present let alone what might've been simmering under the surface in her past.

As she closed her eyes, and brought her hands to her face and caught a whiff of the evidence that it _had_ happened, and that whatever was happening between them was a _fact_ now, she realized that maybe it was none of those things.

Because it was more than likely to be Quinn's smile – her freedom smile – that had her feeling like this.

She loved her fiancé. She _did_. Finn was so good to her, and loved her so entirely, and wanted to marry her.

But she was in love with Quinn Fabray.


End file.
